


First Aid

by SophieHatter



Series: Sophie’s Shorts [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter





	First Aid

He was doing it again. 20 minutes ago he’d come to bed and then she picks up a toothbrush and suddenly he needs clean teeth, right now. He nudges her hip with his and she gives him that long tolerant look: why exactly do I keep you around, again?

She bent over the sink.

Spit. Rinse.

Yank.

“Nice bruise.” His hand rubbed her butt cheek. She twisted her head to see. His fingers looking, dragging her pyjama bottoms with them, finding the long dark mark that reached her thigh.

His kisses, healing kisses, on her behind. Minty marks, tender touch.

“Oh, sorry.” Tongue lapping, dragging, sore but sweet.

“Mmm. Best first aid I’ve had all day.”

His hand searching, pyjamas falling. “Another,” he notes and lips meet blooming shadow. Back of knee, thigh. His hand between, nudging. She moves a foot, spreading. More kisses, his breath caresses, cool warm air finds her heat and she shivers. Tingles. Hairs stand on end, lips explore, higher.

He doesn’t need to ask, she bends forward. Nipples press into porcelain, cold despite her shirt. Fingers on her behind again, pulling gently. Exposing her to his warm cool air. Shivers, goosebumps, wet, slick.

“Mmm,” and he presses his lips to hers and her heart stutters. Soft rough tongue and she wonders if he tastes the mint more or her. Her. His tongue parts her, breaches the dam. Flood of her.

That thumb, it knows her so well. She will never tire of it. Of the way it brushes, dips, circles, presses, strokes.

“Oh.”

Kisses become nips become long slow sucks of swollen flesh. Hurting, but the good kind. The loving kind. Thumb drags and drags her words with it.

“Ohhh.”

He knows. He knows her. Knows her bruises. Knows her scars. Knows her inside and out. Tongue inside and thumb out. Working together they make beautiful.

Beautiful moans, beautiful groans. Beautiful brightness as tongue and thumb steal away her breath and she floats and drifts free from pain and bruises and rebel Jaffa who would try and take her from him.

She is here, he has her. Fingers smooth over bruises, last lingering kisses and he straightens. Grunts as his knee cracks. She rises slowly and turns. He reaches for the toothbrush, she stops him. Now her lips do the kissing, her tongue licking. He and her taste better than toothpaste.

This is why she keeps him around.


End file.
